


just like the cigarettes hurt, just like the whiskey burns

by tampa_bae_frightening (steven_damnkos)



Series: beautiful filth [3]
Category: Asking Alexandria, Original Work
Genre: Asking Alexandria - Freeform, Original work - Freeform, Other, more weird pseudoreligious shit, trying to write sober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 19:37:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2440475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steven_damnkos/pseuds/tampa_bae_frightening
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, i tried to write like i do high, and it was a travesty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just like the cigarettes hurt, just like the whiskey burns

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to write like i do high while sober, and it was a massive failure. I've been beating this dead horse for a month and this pitiful little shit is all i got.

My pen isn't coated in ice, no longer writing in acid.  
The snow is locked safely away until next winter, i bathed in smoke earlier.  
I try to commune with God chemical free, though i know not if he will appear.  
He has been carved of ice and painted in smoke every time.  
I worship a pantheon of sin and self destruction, perhaps this is blasphemous.  
The white lines and burning cigarettes are the tithes i must pay.  
Am i to be cast out for breaking such a crucial rule?  
I find that i always worship you, although i feel you ignore me.  
Is intoxication the way to gain your attention?  
Your own voice is testament to how dearly you've paid to reach your throne.  
Smoke rough and whiskey thick, it pours into my ears and down through my veins.  
The deep growls rattle my soul in the best ways as your sweet tenor notes ease my mind.  
Unholy gospel, sex and drugs.  
Your tales are fascinating, were you once in my place?  
Did you listen closely to the words of your own Gods, hoping to life a life such as theirs?  
Did their debauched tales weave the tapestry of rock n' roll excess that you embody?  
I want the girls, the coke, the whiskey.  
I want to live at 300 miles an hour.  
Show me how to be reckless and relentless as you are.  
A non stop party every night beats constant ennui by a long shot.  
Rock n' roll at its fucking finest?  
I'll sign my contract in blood.  
Sell my soul for ripped fishnets and drunken girls.


End file.
